Count_Lucifer
02-05-2006, 11:06 PM
The Horizon Hunters
It was a dark and stormy night at the Mason’s Apron. If you look down at the hard oaken floor you would see as always the constant battle between blood and grog for control of the floor but as the tears of Sigmar rained down upon the roof of the inn a new opponent joined the fight. The now three-sided battle for the floor was a constant incident now that the dead season had begun. Dogsay raised his head and watched through the imperfect glass at the warped world outside the hearth-warmed room. The door of the tavern slammed open sending a draft up Dogsay’s spine. After shivering the sensation away Dogsay looked up at the newcomers that had begun to walk over to his table.
“G’day lads… and lassie,” said Dogsay as the last of them sat down at the table. Each person at the table had nothing in common with one being a ranger dwarf, a grizzled human pirate, an elf cleric, and another human woman dressed in the robes of the witch hunters. The only thing linking each one of them to each other was a palm-sized patch on the right side of their chest with a dragon shooting up over a horizon.
“We all know why we’re here. We can’t deny the rush of adventure, the lust of gold, and most of all… the lure of the unkowns beyond the never-ending horizon,” stated Dogsay as his gaze met each of them who in turn nodded their agreement, “no oath is needed, no obligation to us is expected, that nod is as good as a blood oath to me. Now consider yourself a brother among the Horizon Hunters.”
Welcome to the Horizon Hunters. We are group of bold adventurers whose only wish in life is to explore the horizon and go places none have dared journey. This guild is no army; I’d say it’s more like a fellowship. We’re not tied by blood oaths but by a common goal: to take on the biggest adventure in the hopes of the biggest riches and tales to tell our grandchildren, if we live long enough that is.
As this is a role-playing guild predominantly I will be pickier about my members. If I don’t think you’re a decent role-player you might not get in. No offense to you as a person but role-playing is an art and if you’re not an artist you don’t belong. If your new and wish to learn and think you have the potential please tell me this and I'll usually be happy to accomodate you.
Guild Requirements:
1. No inner guild character killing or fighting unless in tournament or agreed sparing
2. No spamming
3. No Flaming
4. No showing disrespect to other members
5. No power-playing
6. No really evil characters as even a ragtag team of adventurers doesn’t wants to be in the presence of a necromancer or chaos cultist
Trial: Members are on trial for one week where they must be active on both the guild thread and the role-play. They must also post a duel or other larger post on a separate role-play forum titled (your name)’s trial post for the Horizon Hunters. (unless I know you then you might be lucky to get a spot immediately or perhaps are renowned as a roleplayer or can get a refference from somebody I know. Even if you get a reference you still go on trial but you might be able to skip the trial duel or post)
Positions:
(Pack names are temporary as each pack-master gets to choose their pack’s name as long as it meets approval by me or the quartermaster. Extra packs will be added as seen fit.)
(Also notice scout is not just a basic position, they are the elite of the guild and will be appointed as seen fit)
(The quartermaster is second in comand but does not require tweaking of profiles. It is simply the logical choice of a hunting parties 2nd in command and will be assigned when I encounter a member worthy of said position)
(Packling is the position for those that show potential but because of being new to rp cannot match the standards of the guild)
Grand Packmaster: Dogsay (Count Lucifer)
Quartermaster: (open)
Alpha Pack
Packmaster: (open)
Scout: (open)
Packrat: Jebediah (Rimner)
Packrat: Alessia (Ascahithiel)
Packling: Kael (Hawk)
Bravo Pack
Packmaster: (open)
Scout: (open)
Packrat: Denkim
Packrat: (open)
Packling:
Trial Members: Ishnael (full trial) Doomseeker (full trial)
Guild Sig:
(Just copy the bugger from here and paste into your sig box and poof, you've got a sig!)
<center>- Horizon Hunters -
Guild Profiles: (to make roleplaying life a little easier if you are new and need some info on your fellow members characters)
Name: Dogsay
Race: Dwarf
Age: 112
Appearance: Dogsay carries with him the weapons of a true dwarf, a two handed axe made of the purest metals available to a roaming ranger. Even though he is 112 in human years he is still quite young for a dwarf and his smooth complexion, minus the scare across his eye and nose, is a sign of his young age. Even though he is considered young in dwarf years he was able to grow a rather impressive beard and mustache which, like his hair, is brown. He has blue eyes and wears a chain mail shirt under his grey vest. Which fits rather snugly though his heavy build and standard dwarf muscles have seemed to stretch out the shirt. He also has the traditional brown pants worn by the working dwarves. Another piece of his equipment that is noticed by all is his giant backpack that is as big as his torso. His backpack carries all the supplies that a travelling dwarf would need, a quart-size tankard, an old cooking pan, and his trusty pistol, which was given to him by his father.
Career: Follows the path of the treasure hunter
Mentality: Dogsay’s family was very happy due to generations of separation from traditional dwarf ideas and the solemn feelings that come with being a dwarf. Plus Dogsay was brought up around a very cheery environment being son to one of the better weapon smiths in Nuln. Therefore he almost always has a positive outlook on things and almost never seems down. (I know that’s odd for a dwarf but everybody loves a happy-go-lucky Dwarf. Just thought it was a fun idea), His belief is that the horizon never ends and that exploring your whole life is the only way to make the most of your existence. One experience is worth a thousand stories is another one of his beliefs.
Background: Dogsay was born in Nuln where his father was a well-known weapon smith. He was given his unusual name by his father’s human business partner who was also a family friend. Dogsay was taught the ways of a blacksmith but was soon tired of such a boring life. On a business trip with his father to Altdorf Dogsay visited the great library of Altdorf. After reading about lost kingdoms and treasure beyond imagination Dogsay knew what he was going to do with his life. He began to learn the skills of war and soon he set of on a lifelong adventure. His only destination is the horizon where new surprises are waiting for him.
Name: Jebudiah Smith
Race: Human
Age: 42
Alignment: Good
Occupation: Fur Trader/Adventurer
Weapons: Musket, and a rather large hunting knife, the blade being just over a foot long and around four inches from side to side; the lower four inches of the blunt side of the blade being serrated. The handle hand-carved out of fir wood, not at all professionally done, but the weapon serves its purpose.
Equipment: Slung across his frame is a large powder horn, strapped to his back is a brown leather pack, full of miscellaneous food items and other supplies, and attached to the belt around his waist is a pouch filled with various coins and another bag carries his ammunition.
Physical Description: Jebudiah is not the most imposing figure at 5' 10" and around 200 pounds, but his years in the harsh wilderness have assured he is as solid as an oak. A jutting brow complete with bushy eyebrows does its best to hide his deep brown eyes, and a full brown beard conceals what would be considered a powerful jaw line. Brown hair is strewn about wildly atop his head, and an attempt is made to keep it from getting too long.
Clothing: Buckskin, buckskin, and more buckskin. Scraped, cut, and weathered to a muddy, earthen brown color. If it’s really cold you can occasionally see him wearing a heavy fur coat and hat.
Mental Description: By nature he is nearly as stubborn as the dwarves. It takes a lot for even the thought of retreating from a fight to come to his mind, and he can hold quite a grudge. More often than not, he tends to look at the worst possible outcome of any plan or situation before looking at the good side; and he lets any who are with him know what he thinks that horrible outcome may be. He does not, however, shy away from danger or crazy schemes. After all, he doesn’t have much to live for anymore.
Background: A compact background summary on his childhood and years before the present time will be provided later, work is in progress.
Name - Alessia Tresvedst (real name is Dog)
Age - 22
Occupation - Travelling minstrel/thief
Alignment - Neutral a.k.a. herself
Appearance - She has dark skin from her tilean ancestry, and hair so brown it's almost black. Her hair is cut extremely short (about an inch long), and sticks up at all angles. Her eyes however, are a dark blue from her mother, as is her facial build. At 5'6", she isn't noticeably curvy, merely proportional.
Clothing - (For show) A form hugging burgundy velvet jacket with gold buttons, and baggy gold-coloured breeches. A burnt-orange sash is jauntily tied around her waist, with several pouches tucked into the folds. With this, she wears brown turn-down boots that have gold-embroidered edges. With this, she usually wears a scarlet cloak lined with fox fur. With this outfit, she wears numerous glass bead bracelets in many colours.
(Other occasions) She owns several beige/cream tunics, usually accompanied with a dark pair of breeches, and plain black boots, as well as a good plain belt. Overtop, a dark grey woolen cloak lined with silver-grey wolf fur.
Weapons - Throwing knives hidden across her person, about fifteen in total.
Equipment - Rope, a lantern, flint and steel, and objects she's acquired and is going to sell, carried around in a weather-beaten pack. Her most prized posession is a lute, a very plain instrument that she always keeps perfectly tuned.
Skills - Has a very skilled singing voice, and can play her lute beautifully. She also has very nimble fingers for picking pockets and spiriting away things from plain site. Her greatest skill however, is that she can convince most people that she's telling the truth, when really she's lying like there's no tommorow. She speaks fluent Reikspeil and Borderlander, but is illiterate in both languages.
Personality - Outwardly a very flamboyant, talkative person. She suffers from personal demons however, as she is a kleptomaniac, pathological liar, an alchoholic, and a schisophrenic. She likes attention, and if left too long without it will start wilting, so to speak. If people were to look past all the show, they would find a very lonely soul too lost in all the lies to come back to reality.
History - Dog was born to a common prostitute named Sapphire, in Marienburg. She was often neglected, left by herself for long periods of time with nothing to do and no-one to talk to but herself. Her clothes were comparable to rags, and she was under-fed. Often, her mother would beat her if she ate too much, or asked for a toy, sometimes even just because she existed. When she was twelve, Sapphire wanted her to make herself useful, and sent her out to make money in whatever way she could. After a year of picking pockets, she ran away and joined a group of gypsies, where she learned how to throw knives and play the lute. However, she had lied to them about her past, naming herself Ruby, and when one of them finally found out the truth at fifteen, she ran away once again. She was in the Borderlands, not understanding a single word the inhabitants said, with no-one to turn to. As such, she became a travelling minstrel, sinking deeper into her lies. After a year, she picked up the language, and joined another travelling gypsy group under the name of Raven, and travelled again with them for three years. She left them at Marienburg, not really knowing why she stopped there. She spent some time by the docks, where she picked up a Tilean name she liked and a last name, and was eventually hired to sing for a nobleman and his wife. She played for them for two years, entertaining them with her tales and songs. One night the nobleman attempted to molest her, so she gathered her things and left. She spent her time wandering, paying for her drinks with song and word until she heard of a group called the horizon hunters, who spent their time looking for adventure. She immediately was interested, and set out to join them.
Name - Kael Hawk
Age - 23
Occupation - Adventurer
Alignment - Chaotic (I think so anyway)
Appearance - Kael has dark brown dreadlocks, in desperate need of a wash, falling to just below shoulder height. Deep brown eyes are sunken in their sockets, slightly glazed over from lack of sleep. His skin tanned from long days of traveling, and thick muscles created through years of harsh survival bulge throughout his 6' 2" frame.
Clothing - He wears a tan coloured shirt with a dark brown tunic, and pants that are also tan, with a belt. He always wears his travelling boots.
Weapons - He always a scimitar strapped to his back as well as two balance Hunting knives and about 13 throwing daggers hidden around his body
Equipment - He carries very little equipment, having learnt to do most tasks with out them.
Skills - his skills include hunting, tracking, running, throwing knives, swimming, and climbing, all of which are skills he picked up on the run. drinking and making enemies seem to be natural skills for him.
Personality - Kael is very direct and upfront, which has earnt him more enemies then friends, though he keeps a guarded tounge at most times, he is loyal partner and friend, protecting his friends in any occasion.
History - Kael was tall boy even in his youth, and always on of the first to fight, but also to forgive and make a joke of the whole thing. When he wasn’t in school or learning to fight, like every boy in the village, he was either wrestling with the boys,
Or out hunting rabbits and foxes with his best friend, Jacob. One day, not long after
His seventeenth birthday, his village was attack by a band of chaos followers, in the
Battle he was knocked out. When he awoke he was in a cell, though he was soon
Released, at first he didn’t know why, so It came as a surprise when he came across
two Chaos hunters that seemed to be tracking him, after that he’s been running up until late.
Name: Denkim Ghaf
Age: 24
Race: Human
Occupation: None
Home Location: Marienburg
Physical Description
Height: 5'10"
Weight and Build: Weights around 155 pounds. Denkim is a bit wirery so it is hard for him to bulk up with muscle. However, he has done a lot of hard work on the Marienburg docks, so he's no wuss.
Hair: Medium length dark brown frizzy hair that has a mind of it's own. Denkim usually wears a hat because he can't control his hair.
Eyes: Brown
Skin: Even for being in the northern part of the world, Denkim has fairly tan skin. At least more tan than the nobles of the city that stay fully clothed and indoors to retain their white skin.
Other Features: A tattoo runs down Denkims left arm. More details on this latter perhaps.
Physical Skills and Abilities
Street Smart: Denkim grew up on the streets of Marienburg. He learned everything the hard way and his whole life has been a struggle. The work he's done has been hard, and for little pay. And the little money he's gotten he's had to defend from the theives that occupy the area. He has been in plenty of fights and it's made him as tough as an ox.
Jovial: Denkim is usually in a happy mood, and there is little can change that mood. He'll talk to anyone about anything, so he is usually well liked.
Weapon Skilled: Denkim has had a fair share of experience in sword play. And he's been in more than a few sword fights, or sword brawls, as he calls them. It's never pretty when a whole tavern full of drunks pull out their swords and got at it.
Accessories
Clothing: You would never be able to pick Denkim out of a crowd of regular townsfolk. He wears the same typical clothes as any other regular resident of Marienburg.
But, to go into a little more detail: He wears a pair of brown leather boots. The boots ride just high enough to keep out any water if he happens to step in a puddle. He usually wears pants of black or brown color, as they show little dirt and seldom need to be washed. His pants are a little on the baggy side. Denkim wears fairly stiff shirts that have no ruffles or folds on them. Most of them are of the tannish white colour and button up only on the top half. Denkim is seldmon found without his brown Tri-Cornered hat.
Weapons: Most of the time, Denkim only carries one dagger. It is sheathed under his left wrist in a leather 'bracer' sheath. But, he also owns a regular broadsword and a few other daggers. Nothing to fancy.
Pockets and Trinkets: Denkim rarely has anything in his pockets, especially coins. The only money he ever has usually resides in the coinpurses he steals.
Mentality:
Brain Power: Denkim never went to school but he can read a little. He reads whenever he gets his hands on a book, but that isnt very often. He cannot write, nor does he need to, he has nothing to write about and no one to write to. However, Denkim has something that many scholars never aquire: Street smarts. His life on the streets of Marienburg have taught him many things that cannot be found in a book. The most important thing he has learned is how to fight. Denkim has been a scrapper all his life and he knows how to keep his head in a fight.
Personality: Denkim is a rather jovial person. He's had a hard life and he has learned to live life one day at a time. He is not quick to take offence, but he has little care for others feelings. If you stand in his way, he will have no problem with slitting your throat.
Short History: Denkim grew up on the streets of Marienburg. He spent his first years of life in an orphanage. At the age of 7, that orphanage burnt down, and the children were left to fend for themselves. He survived for the next few years by stealing and begging food and coin from the people and churches of Marienburg. At the age of 9 he got his first job at the docks for 2 copper a week hauling suplies aboard the ships that moored there. Since then, he's been doing odd jobs around the docks as well as a few theivings.
Name: Sarkar Hammerfist
Race: Dwarf
Age: 282
Appearance: Sarkar is as Dwarvey as they come. Built like a block of Gromril, and just about as tough as one, he’s a typical Dwarf. Almost as wide as he is tall, Sarkar has a face that looks like the side of a mountain, craggy and lined. His steely grey beard and hair is always plaited into a braid. Clad in fine Gromril armour as befitting an Ironbreaker, Sarkar is a fearsome sight to behold. His personal emblem is a hammer and a fist crossed on a black background, proudly displayed on his shield. His hammer is functional and unadorned even though it is the clans most prized weapon. Grim and grumpy as most Dwarfs are, occasionally you will get to see a sparkle in his shiny black eyes which normally means that he is up to some mischief.
Career: Ironbreaker
Mentality: Stubborn. Nuff said. Like most Dwarfs, Sarkar is a wanderer ever since his hold fell to greenskins. The clan moved on but Sarkar refuses to believe that the hold cannot be reclaimed. Currently, he works freelance as a tank for hire. He is always on the lookout for a way to return and reclaim his home. Saying this, all is not doom and gloom for him. Being a son of the very rich Hammerfist clan, he has access to great wealth and thus he is quite capable of funding an expedition to do just that.
Background: Born into a rich family, Sarkar was never in want of anything. Being a younger son, he was not expected to carry on the family business so he dedicated his time to other interests. Once he was old enough, he joined the hold’s garrison and served in its defense. It was there he found his calling in life. Entering into a fist fighting competition, he defeated all comers and managed to qualify for the Old World Dwarven Championships. With hard training and blessed with natural talent he won the title and kept it for close to three decades. Alas, with the greenskin menace continually rising, the powers that be terminated the competition, leaving him as the undefeated champion and without a career. Being a kind of celebrity, his holds Ironbreaker battalion invited him to join them. He accepted just in time, for the greenskins invaded his hold soon after. As they say, the rest is history…
Name: Grangul Skullcleaver
Race and Gender: Dwarf, Male
Age, Actual and Apparent: Actual 189, Apparent 70
Height and Build: 4'9"; Short, Muscular, Broad
Physical description: Grangul is quite a tall dwarf but in all other respects very much like a dwarf should be. He has a large nose which has been broken several times by the look of it and large merciless mud brown eyes. Along with that his face has many scarres on it making him look slightly wild, his beard and hair have been dyed a bright orange as is custom for one who follows the slayer path, His hair has been shaven off on the sides and the middle he has made into long spikes with pig grease. his beard has been made into long plaits with golden rings to hold them together at the ends. he usually doesnt wear any upper clothes but in his pack he has a tattered old brown cloak with hood that he wears when it is cold along with a blue shirt, he also wears a pair of thick leather pants held up by a wide leather girdle with a large silver buckle that has been moulded into the shape of a dwarf head with two small rubies for eyes. he also wears both black leather boots and black leather gloves. on his arms he has long tattoos somewhat in the form of intertwined snakes but with no head. he also has had three seperate runes carved on his shoulderblades the runes of stone, iron and resistance all of which have red scar tissue over them.
Career and Skills: Grangul follows the path of Slayer and though he has learned the art of Forging in the Smithy he doesnt use any of the skills he has learned there, he can swing both his axes with practised ease and is a good match for any of the monsters he hunts.
Weapons and Armour: Grangul carries two double bladed axes both have the grudge runes inscribed in them along with the rune of might. The axes themselves are wonderfull to behold, the grip is made of wood with bearskin wrapped over it and hanging from the bottom is a small golden chain with a Wolfs head on one and a Bears head on the other one the blades are both razor sharp and have the runes inscribed on them in beautifull shining gold. on top of both axes are small round emeralds that have been fastened to the wood of the axe itself. Grangul does not wear any armor save his leather pants, gloves and boots. he also has a long dagger which he uses mainly to skin the animals he catches for food.
Equipment: Grangul has a small pack on the back of his belt with in it his cloack and some food and a bearskin flask also hangs next to this pack.
Mental description: Grangul is a typical dwarf, stubborn, brave and loyal.
Background: Grangul was born to a well respected family in Zhufbar and his father was part of the Gatekeepers. Though he got an apprentiship with one of the Smiths in Zhufbar Grangul was not content with simply forging weapons for others to use, so he made himself two almost identical axes with great care and precision and practised with these on a daily basis. After almost a decade of working at the smithy a Runesmith came along to have a hammer made for his apprentice and though he knew he was very much out of place, Grangul asked if the Runesmith would forge runes of might on his axes, chuckling at the hopefull look on the lads face the Runesmith decided to do so but it would cost him a fair chunk of gold, needless to say Grangul gladly accepted and got the runes inscribed onto his allready beautifull weapons. It seemed life would go on nicely for Grangul, that was, untill the ratmen came in through a newly dug tunnel. The vile creatures had broken in and killed the miners quickly advancing to the Hold itself. When a miner came running out yelling for help Grangul quickly grasped his weapons, only to be held back by the Master Smith who told him to stay put. Grangul watched as his father and many of the other guards came running towards the mines with axes and hammers drawn. They slew all the ratmen that had come out, leaving not even one alive. when they came out bearing there fallen on their shoulders Grangul did not see his father, ignoring his Master he ran out to the guard and he was stunned when he saw his father being carried by the foremost four men. he was dumbstruck and did not respond to the nods and soft pats on the back he got from some of the guards. he went home that evening with a single though on his mind, Revenge. he knew there was only one way for him to leave and seek revenge for his father, he swoar the oath of the Slayer and dyed his hair bright orange shaving off the sides aswell. He then grabbed both his weapons and left the Keep for good, silently seeking death in hopes of joining his father in the great halls of the Ancestors.
Homeland/Town: Zhufbar
Fighting Style: Grangul fights with both his axes in hand and has adopted an almost un-dwarflike fighting style which involves quick movement instead of standing fast and dealing out punishment. His skill with his axes have gotten more pronounced since he became a Slayer, and he roams the country looking for a foe that can best him.
Personality: Like most Slayers Grangul is quiet and does not speak much of his past. he can however be pleasant company and gives good advice with wisdom that is far beyond his age.
Speech: Grangul speaks the dwarfish tongue fluently but has also mastered the language of the empire.
It was a dark and stormy night at the Mason’s Apron. If you look down at the hard oaken floor you would see as always the constant battle between blood and grog for control of the floor but as the tears of Sigmar rained down upon the roof of the inn a new opponent joined the fight. The now three-sided battle for the floor was a constant incident now that the dead season had begun. Dogsay raised his head and watched through the imperfect glass at the warped world outside the hearth-warmed room. The door of the tavern slammed open sending a draft up Dogsay’s spine. After shivering the sensation away Dogsay looked up at the newcomers that had begun to walk over to his table.
“G’day lads… and lassie,” said Dogsay as the last of them sat down at the table. Each person at the table had nothing in common with one being a ranger dwarf, a grizzled human pirate, an elf cleric, and another human woman dressed in the robes of the witch hunters. The only thing linking each one of them to each other was a palm-sized patch on the right side of their chest with a dragon shooting up over a horizon.
“We all know why we’re here. We can’t deny the rush of adventure, the lust of gold, and most of all… the lure of the unkowns beyond the never-ending horizon,” stated Dogsay as his gaze met each of them who in turn nodded their agreement, “no oath is needed, no obligation to us is expected, that nod is as good as a blood oath to me. Now consider yourself a brother among the Horizon Hunters.”
Welcome to the Horizon Hunters. We are group of bold adventurers whose only wish in life is to explore the horizon and go places none have dared journey. This guild is no army; I’d say it’s more like a fellowship. We’re not tied by blood oaths but by a common goal: to take on the biggest adventure in the hopes of the biggest riches and tales to tell our grandchildren, if we live long enough that is.
As this is a role-playing guild predominantly I will be pickier about my members. If I don’t think you’re a decent role-player you might not get in. No offense to you as a person but role-playing is an art and if you’re not an artist you don’t belong. If your new and wish to learn and think you have the potential please tell me this and I'll usually be happy to accomodate you.
Guild Requirements:
1. No inner guild character killing or fighting unless in tournament or agreed sparing
2. No spamming
3. No Flaming
4. No showing disrespect to other members
5. No power-playing
6. No really evil characters as even a ragtag team of adventurers doesn’t wants to be in the presence of a necromancer or chaos cultist
Trial: Members are on trial for one week where they must be active on both the guild thread and the role-play. They must also post a duel or other larger post on a separate role-play forum titled (your name)’s trial post for the Horizon Hunters. (unless I know you then you might be lucky to get a spot immediately or perhaps are renowned as a roleplayer or can get a refference from somebody I know. Even if you get a reference you still go on trial but you might be able to skip the trial duel or post)
Positions:
(Pack names are temporary as each pack-master gets to choose their pack’s name as long as it meets approval by me or the quartermaster. Extra packs will be added as seen fit.)
(Also notice scout is not just a basic position, they are the elite of the guild and will be appointed as seen fit)
(The quartermaster is second in comand but does not require tweaking of profiles. It is simply the logical choice of a hunting parties 2nd in command and will be assigned when I encounter a member worthy of said position)
(Packling is the position for those that show potential but because of being new to rp cannot match the standards of the guild)
Grand Packmaster: Dogsay (Count Lucifer)
Quartermaster: (open)
Alpha Pack
Packmaster: (open)
Scout: (open)
Packrat: Jebediah (Rimner)
Packrat: Alessia (Ascahithiel)
Packling: Kael (Hawk)
Bravo Pack
Packmaster: (open)
Scout: (open)
Packrat: Denkim
Packrat: (open)
Packling:
Trial Members: Ishnael (full trial) Doomseeker (full trial)
Guild Sig:
(Just copy the bugger from here and paste into your sig box and poof, you've got a sig!)
<center>- Horizon Hunters -
Guild Profiles: (to make roleplaying life a little easier if you are new and need some info on your fellow members characters)
Name: Dogsay
Race: Dwarf
Age: 112
Appearance: Dogsay carries with him the weapons of a true dwarf, a two handed axe made of the purest metals available to a roaming ranger. Even though he is 112 in human years he is still quite young for a dwarf and his smooth complexion, minus the scare across his eye and nose, is a sign of his young age. Even though he is considered young in dwarf years he was able to grow a rather impressive beard and mustache which, like his hair, is brown. He has blue eyes and wears a chain mail shirt under his grey vest. Which fits rather snugly though his heavy build and standard dwarf muscles have seemed to stretch out the shirt. He also has the traditional brown pants worn by the working dwarves. Another piece of his equipment that is noticed by all is his giant backpack that is as big as his torso. His backpack carries all the supplies that a travelling dwarf would need, a quart-size tankard, an old cooking pan, and his trusty pistol, which was given to him by his father.
Career: Follows the path of the treasure hunter
Mentality: Dogsay’s family was very happy due to generations of separation from traditional dwarf ideas and the solemn feelings that come with being a dwarf. Plus Dogsay was brought up around a very cheery environment being son to one of the better weapon smiths in Nuln. Therefore he almost always has a positive outlook on things and almost never seems down. (I know that’s odd for a dwarf but everybody loves a happy-go-lucky Dwarf. Just thought it was a fun idea), His belief is that the horizon never ends and that exploring your whole life is the only way to make the most of your existence. One experience is worth a thousand stories is another one of his beliefs.
Background: Dogsay was born in Nuln where his father was a well-known weapon smith. He was given his unusual name by his father’s human business partner who was also a family friend. Dogsay was taught the ways of a blacksmith but was soon tired of such a boring life. On a business trip with his father to Altdorf Dogsay visited the great library of Altdorf. After reading about lost kingdoms and treasure beyond imagination Dogsay knew what he was going to do with his life. He began to learn the skills of war and soon he set of on a lifelong adventure. His only destination is the horizon where new surprises are waiting for him.
Name: Jebudiah Smith
Race: Human
Age: 42
Alignment: Good
Occupation: Fur Trader/Adventurer
Weapons: Musket, and a rather large hunting knife, the blade being just over a foot long and around four inches from side to side; the lower four inches of the blunt side of the blade being serrated. The handle hand-carved out of fir wood, not at all professionally done, but the weapon serves its purpose.
Equipment: Slung across his frame is a large powder horn, strapped to his back is a brown leather pack, full of miscellaneous food items and other supplies, and attached to the belt around his waist is a pouch filled with various coins and another bag carries his ammunition.
Physical Description: Jebudiah is not the most imposing figure at 5' 10" and around 200 pounds, but his years in the harsh wilderness have assured he is as solid as an oak. A jutting brow complete with bushy eyebrows does its best to hide his deep brown eyes, and a full brown beard conceals what would be considered a powerful jaw line. Brown hair is strewn about wildly atop his head, and an attempt is made to keep it from getting too long.
Clothing: Buckskin, buckskin, and more buckskin. Scraped, cut, and weathered to a muddy, earthen brown color. If it’s really cold you can occasionally see him wearing a heavy fur coat and hat.
Mental Description: By nature he is nearly as stubborn as the dwarves. It takes a lot for even the thought of retreating from a fight to come to his mind, and he can hold quite a grudge. More often than not, he tends to look at the worst possible outcome of any plan or situation before looking at the good side; and he lets any who are with him know what he thinks that horrible outcome may be. He does not, however, shy away from danger or crazy schemes. After all, he doesn’t have much to live for anymore.
Background: A compact background summary on his childhood and years before the present time will be provided later, work is in progress.
Name - Alessia Tresvedst (real name is Dog)
Age - 22
Occupation - Travelling minstrel/thief
Alignment - Neutral a.k.a. herself
Appearance - She has dark skin from her tilean ancestry, and hair so brown it's almost black. Her hair is cut extremely short (about an inch long), and sticks up at all angles. Her eyes however, are a dark blue from her mother, as is her facial build. At 5'6", she isn't noticeably curvy, merely proportional.
Clothing - (For show) A form hugging burgundy velvet jacket with gold buttons, and baggy gold-coloured breeches. A burnt-orange sash is jauntily tied around her waist, with several pouches tucked into the folds. With this, she wears brown turn-down boots that have gold-embroidered edges. With this, she usually wears a scarlet cloak lined with fox fur. With this outfit, she wears numerous glass bead bracelets in many colours.
(Other occasions) She owns several beige/cream tunics, usually accompanied with a dark pair of breeches, and plain black boots, as well as a good plain belt. Overtop, a dark grey woolen cloak lined with silver-grey wolf fur.
Weapons - Throwing knives hidden across her person, about fifteen in total.
Equipment - Rope, a lantern, flint and steel, and objects she's acquired and is going to sell, carried around in a weather-beaten pack. Her most prized posession is a lute, a very plain instrument that she always keeps perfectly tuned.
Skills - Has a very skilled singing voice, and can play her lute beautifully. She also has very nimble fingers for picking pockets and spiriting away things from plain site. Her greatest skill however, is that she can convince most people that she's telling the truth, when really she's lying like there's no tommorow. She speaks fluent Reikspeil and Borderlander, but is illiterate in both languages.
Personality - Outwardly a very flamboyant, talkative person. She suffers from personal demons however, as she is a kleptomaniac, pathological liar, an alchoholic, and a schisophrenic. She likes attention, and if left too long without it will start wilting, so to speak. If people were to look past all the show, they would find a very lonely soul too lost in all the lies to come back to reality.
History - Dog was born to a common prostitute named Sapphire, in Marienburg. She was often neglected, left by herself for long periods of time with nothing to do and no-one to talk to but herself. Her clothes were comparable to rags, and she was under-fed. Often, her mother would beat her if she ate too much, or asked for a toy, sometimes even just because she existed. When she was twelve, Sapphire wanted her to make herself useful, and sent her out to make money in whatever way she could. After a year of picking pockets, she ran away and joined a group of gypsies, where she learned how to throw knives and play the lute. However, she had lied to them about her past, naming herself Ruby, and when one of them finally found out the truth at fifteen, she ran away once again. She was in the Borderlands, not understanding a single word the inhabitants said, with no-one to turn to. As such, she became a travelling minstrel, sinking deeper into her lies. After a year, she picked up the language, and joined another travelling gypsy group under the name of Raven, and travelled again with them for three years. She left them at Marienburg, not really knowing why she stopped there. She spent some time by the docks, where she picked up a Tilean name she liked and a last name, and was eventually hired to sing for a nobleman and his wife. She played for them for two years, entertaining them with her tales and songs. One night the nobleman attempted to molest her, so she gathered her things and left. She spent her time wandering, paying for her drinks with song and word until she heard of a group called the horizon hunters, who spent their time looking for adventure. She immediately was interested, and set out to join them.
Name - Kael Hawk
Age - 23
Occupation - Adventurer
Alignment - Chaotic (I think so anyway)
Appearance - Kael has dark brown dreadlocks, in desperate need of a wash, falling to just below shoulder height. Deep brown eyes are sunken in their sockets, slightly glazed over from lack of sleep. His skin tanned from long days of traveling, and thick muscles created through years of harsh survival bulge throughout his 6' 2" frame.
Clothing - He wears a tan coloured shirt with a dark brown tunic, and pants that are also tan, with a belt. He always wears his travelling boots.
Weapons - He always a scimitar strapped to his back as well as two balance Hunting knives and about 13 throwing daggers hidden around his body
Equipment - He carries very little equipment, having learnt to do most tasks with out them.
Skills - his skills include hunting, tracking, running, throwing knives, swimming, and climbing, all of which are skills he picked up on the run. drinking and making enemies seem to be natural skills for him.
Personality - Kael is very direct and upfront, which has earnt him more enemies then friends, though he keeps a guarded tounge at most times, he is loyal partner and friend, protecting his friends in any occasion.
History - Kael was tall boy even in his youth, and always on of the first to fight, but also to forgive and make a joke of the whole thing. When he wasn’t in school or learning to fight, like every boy in the village, he was either wrestling with the boys,
Or out hunting rabbits and foxes with his best friend, Jacob. One day, not long after
His seventeenth birthday, his village was attack by a band of chaos followers, in the
Battle he was knocked out. When he awoke he was in a cell, though he was soon
Released, at first he didn’t know why, so It came as a surprise when he came across
two Chaos hunters that seemed to be tracking him, after that he’s been running up until late.
Name: Denkim Ghaf
Age: 24
Race: Human
Occupation: None
Home Location: Marienburg
Physical Description
Height: 5'10"
Weight and Build: Weights around 155 pounds. Denkim is a bit wirery so it is hard for him to bulk up with muscle. However, he has done a lot of hard work on the Marienburg docks, so he's no wuss.
Hair: Medium length dark brown frizzy hair that has a mind of it's own. Denkim usually wears a hat because he can't control his hair.
Eyes: Brown
Skin: Even for being in the northern part of the world, Denkim has fairly tan skin. At least more tan than the nobles of the city that stay fully clothed and indoors to retain their white skin.
Other Features: A tattoo runs down Denkims left arm. More details on this latter perhaps.
Physical Skills and Abilities
Street Smart: Denkim grew up on the streets of Marienburg. He learned everything the hard way and his whole life has been a struggle. The work he's done has been hard, and for little pay. And the little money he's gotten he's had to defend from the theives that occupy the area. He has been in plenty of fights and it's made him as tough as an ox.
Jovial: Denkim is usually in a happy mood, and there is little can change that mood. He'll talk to anyone about anything, so he is usually well liked.
Weapon Skilled: Denkim has had a fair share of experience in sword play. And he's been in more than a few sword fights, or sword brawls, as he calls them. It's never pretty when a whole tavern full of drunks pull out their swords and got at it.
Accessories
Clothing: You would never be able to pick Denkim out of a crowd of regular townsfolk. He wears the same typical clothes as any other regular resident of Marienburg.
But, to go into a little more detail: He wears a pair of brown leather boots. The boots ride just high enough to keep out any water if he happens to step in a puddle. He usually wears pants of black or brown color, as they show little dirt and seldom need to be washed. His pants are a little on the baggy side. Denkim wears fairly stiff shirts that have no ruffles or folds on them. Most of them are of the tannish white colour and button up only on the top half. Denkim is seldmon found without his brown Tri-Cornered hat.
Weapons: Most of the time, Denkim only carries one dagger. It is sheathed under his left wrist in a leather 'bracer' sheath. But, he also owns a regular broadsword and a few other daggers. Nothing to fancy.
Pockets and Trinkets: Denkim rarely has anything in his pockets, especially coins. The only money he ever has usually resides in the coinpurses he steals.
Mentality:
Brain Power: Denkim never went to school but he can read a little. He reads whenever he gets his hands on a book, but that isnt very often. He cannot write, nor does he need to, he has nothing to write about and no one to write to. However, Denkim has something that many scholars never aquire: Street smarts. His life on the streets of Marienburg have taught him many things that cannot be found in a book. The most important thing he has learned is how to fight. Denkim has been a scrapper all his life and he knows how to keep his head in a fight.
Personality: Denkim is a rather jovial person. He's had a hard life and he has learned to live life one day at a time. He is not quick to take offence, but he has little care for others feelings. If you stand in his way, he will have no problem with slitting your throat.
Short History: Denkim grew up on the streets of Marienburg. He spent his first years of life in an orphanage. At the age of 7, that orphanage burnt down, and the children were left to fend for themselves. He survived for the next few years by stealing and begging food and coin from the people and churches of Marienburg. At the age of 9 he got his first job at the docks for 2 copper a week hauling suplies aboard the ships that moored there. Since then, he's been doing odd jobs around the docks as well as a few theivings.
Name: Sarkar Hammerfist
Race: Dwarf
Age: 282
Appearance: Sarkar is as Dwarvey as they come. Built like a block of Gromril, and just about as tough as one, he’s a typical Dwarf. Almost as wide as he is tall, Sarkar has a face that looks like the side of a mountain, craggy and lined. His steely grey beard and hair is always plaited into a braid. Clad in fine Gromril armour as befitting an Ironbreaker, Sarkar is a fearsome sight to behold. His personal emblem is a hammer and a fist crossed on a black background, proudly displayed on his shield. His hammer is functional and unadorned even though it is the clans most prized weapon. Grim and grumpy as most Dwarfs are, occasionally you will get to see a sparkle in his shiny black eyes which normally means that he is up to some mischief.
Career: Ironbreaker
Mentality: Stubborn. Nuff said. Like most Dwarfs, Sarkar is a wanderer ever since his hold fell to greenskins. The clan moved on but Sarkar refuses to believe that the hold cannot be reclaimed. Currently, he works freelance as a tank for hire. He is always on the lookout for a way to return and reclaim his home. Saying this, all is not doom and gloom for him. Being a son of the very rich Hammerfist clan, he has access to great wealth and thus he is quite capable of funding an expedition to do just that.
Background: Born into a rich family, Sarkar was never in want of anything. Being a younger son, he was not expected to carry on the family business so he dedicated his time to other interests. Once he was old enough, he joined the hold’s garrison and served in its defense. It was there he found his calling in life. Entering into a fist fighting competition, he defeated all comers and managed to qualify for the Old World Dwarven Championships. With hard training and blessed with natural talent he won the title and kept it for close to three decades. Alas, with the greenskin menace continually rising, the powers that be terminated the competition, leaving him as the undefeated champion and without a career. Being a kind of celebrity, his holds Ironbreaker battalion invited him to join them. He accepted just in time, for the greenskins invaded his hold soon after. As they say, the rest is history…
Name: Grangul Skullcleaver
Race and Gender: Dwarf, Male
Age, Actual and Apparent: Actual 189, Apparent 70
Height and Build: 4'9"; Short, Muscular, Broad
Physical description: Grangul is quite a tall dwarf but in all other respects very much like a dwarf should be. He has a large nose which has been broken several times by the look of it and large merciless mud brown eyes. Along with that his face has many scarres on it making him look slightly wild, his beard and hair have been dyed a bright orange as is custom for one who follows the slayer path, His hair has been shaven off on the sides and the middle he has made into long spikes with pig grease. his beard has been made into long plaits with golden rings to hold them together at the ends. he usually doesnt wear any upper clothes but in his pack he has a tattered old brown cloak with hood that he wears when it is cold along with a blue shirt, he also wears a pair of thick leather pants held up by a wide leather girdle with a large silver buckle that has been moulded into the shape of a dwarf head with two small rubies for eyes. he also wears both black leather boots and black leather gloves. on his arms he has long tattoos somewhat in the form of intertwined snakes but with no head. he also has had three seperate runes carved on his shoulderblades the runes of stone, iron and resistance all of which have red scar tissue over them.
Career and Skills: Grangul follows the path of Slayer and though he has learned the art of Forging in the Smithy he doesnt use any of the skills he has learned there, he can swing both his axes with practised ease and is a good match for any of the monsters he hunts.
Weapons and Armour: Grangul carries two double bladed axes both have the grudge runes inscribed in them along with the rune of might. The axes themselves are wonderfull to behold, the grip is made of wood with bearskin wrapped over it and hanging from the bottom is a small golden chain with a Wolfs head on one and a Bears head on the other one the blades are both razor sharp and have the runes inscribed on them in beautifull shining gold. on top of both axes are small round emeralds that have been fastened to the wood of the axe itself. Grangul does not wear any armor save his leather pants, gloves and boots. he also has a long dagger which he uses mainly to skin the animals he catches for food.
Equipment: Grangul has a small pack on the back of his belt with in it his cloack and some food and a bearskin flask also hangs next to this pack.
Mental description: Grangul is a typical dwarf, stubborn, brave and loyal.
Background: Grangul was born to a well respected family in Zhufbar and his father was part of the Gatekeepers. Though he got an apprentiship with one of the Smiths in Zhufbar Grangul was not content with simply forging weapons for others to use, so he made himself two almost identical axes with great care and precision and practised with these on a daily basis. After almost a decade of working at the smithy a Runesmith came along to have a hammer made for his apprentice and though he knew he was very much out of place, Grangul asked if the Runesmith would forge runes of might on his axes, chuckling at the hopefull look on the lads face the Runesmith decided to do so but it would cost him a fair chunk of gold, needless to say Grangul gladly accepted and got the runes inscribed onto his allready beautifull weapons. It seemed life would go on nicely for Grangul, that was, untill the ratmen came in through a newly dug tunnel. The vile creatures had broken in and killed the miners quickly advancing to the Hold itself. When a miner came running out yelling for help Grangul quickly grasped his weapons, only to be held back by the Master Smith who told him to stay put. Grangul watched as his father and many of the other guards came running towards the mines with axes and hammers drawn. They slew all the ratmen that had come out, leaving not even one alive. when they came out bearing there fallen on their shoulders Grangul did not see his father, ignoring his Master he ran out to the guard and he was stunned when he saw his father being carried by the foremost four men. he was dumbstruck and did not respond to the nods and soft pats on the back he got from some of the guards. he went home that evening with a single though on his mind, Revenge. he knew there was only one way for him to leave and seek revenge for his father, he swoar the oath of the Slayer and dyed his hair bright orange shaving off the sides aswell. He then grabbed both his weapons and left the Keep for good, silently seeking death in hopes of joining his father in the great halls of the Ancestors.
Homeland/Town: Zhufbar
Fighting Style: Grangul fights with both his axes in hand and has adopted an almost un-dwarflike fighting style which involves quick movement instead of standing fast and dealing out punishment. His skill with his axes have gotten more pronounced since he became a Slayer, and he roams the country looking for a foe that can best him.
Personality: Like most Slayers Grangul is quiet and does not speak much of his past. he can however be pleasant company and gives good advice with wisdom that is far beyond his age.
Speech: Grangul speaks the dwarfish tongue fluently but has also mastered the language of the empire.